The Twelve Pranks of Christmas
by RoseRed01
Summary: Every year at Christmas, Puck has something big planned for the small town of Ferryport Landing. but this year, he's doing something no Grimm nor everafter could even imagine. Could the fairy-boy's Christmas be getting too out of hand?
1. Big Plans and the Pranks Begin

**Hello my wonderful readers! This is a story I've been thinking of for roughly a year. Some of you probably remember last year, when I said I was going to have another Christmas story this year. For a while I considered not doing it, but then I saw that I had promised and now I kind of feel obligated to. Plus it's a really good idea. So read on and I hope you enjoy The Twelve Pranks of Christmas!**

_**Warning:**_

_**This is a written record of a recording that had mysteriously appeared on the doorstep of the author. The author takes no responsibility for any of the content of the recording including extra noises, muffled curses, and slander and/or defacing. This story should therefore be confronted with caution. Thank you for your consideration.**_

_Once_ _upon a time, there was a little house in a little town called Ferryport Landing. In this house lived a family called the Grimms, and they lived happily…_

Wait a second, _happily?_ Since when have the Grimms lived happily? And I think we all know that the whole _once upon a time_ thing won't do at all.

My name is Daphne Grimm, and this is my account of what happened the worst and best Christmas of my sister's life.

[Ouch! Hey! No, Sabrina, I'm _going _to do this. No!]

That was my sister herself. She really doesn't want me to do this. But I think it's good for her. It could inspire someone else.

Where was I? Oh, yeah!

It all started twelve days before Christmas day. Since our friend, Puck, had learned about Christmas a few years ago, he had done something big every year. Once, he waged war with the neighbors on Christmas decorating. Another, he covered the whole town in…

But anyways, we weren't prepared in the slightest for what he was planning this year.

I was putting decorations on the tree, muttering a Christmas Carol I had made up myself to the tune of "We Wish you a Merry Christmas"

"We wish you a very Grimm Christmas, we wish you a very Grimm Christmas, we wish you a very Grimm Christmas, and a magical new year"

Suddenly I heard a noise, but it was so faint I barely payed it any attention.

"Good tidings we bring, from us and from Puck. Good tidings for Christmas, and a magical new year…"

_BANG!_

I whirled around to see a mound of white _somethin_g standing in the middle of the living room.

"Sarbina!" I screamed, not sure if in horror or amusement. Sabrina is my older sister.

"Daphne, help!" Sabrina yelled. "I don't want to get flour all over the living room!"

"Ok, ok. Calm down". But before I could even finish the sentence, I saw a flash of pink and Sabrina was wearing a hat, scarf, her arms were now twigs, and her nose was a carrot.

Sabrina stood there a few moments, unable to move. I bit my palm to keep from laughed. It got even harder to hold it in when a certain blonde-haired winged boy appeared and beamed at the work he had done.

"I think I can check off building a snowman for this year," he said, his voice very, well, puckish.

"What are you doing Puck?" I asked, though with my palm in my mouth it came out as "Uh arr oo ooing uck?"

"I have no idea what you said Marshmallow," Puck said "But I know you're probably wondering about my ingenious work of art. Well my high-spirited friend, this is just the warning for my glorious plan for the holidays this year".

I took my hand out of my mouth. "But that's just a prank".

Puck looked offended. "Just a prank? No, Marshmallow, it is not just a prank; it's my innovational plans to go down in history!"

"More so than being in a play by Shakespeare?" though I was more thinking of how he could possibly know the word _innovational_.

Puck rolled his eyes, then turned to Sabrina. "You think this is bad? Just wait Stinkface. Oh, you just wait" he then pulled out a camera and snapped a picture. "oh, yeah, this is definately going on the blog".

"You have a blog?"

"What? No, of course not. That would be stupid," he said quickly, stowing the camera in his pocket.

And with that, he flew away before he could suffer the wrath of Sabrina Grimm.

**So there's the first chapter! With Christmas stories, I usually post at least once a day, as a sort of count down to Christmas. Hope you like it!**


	2. A Partridge in a Pear Tree

**Hello my readers! Okay, I know what you're thinking. And I'm sorry. I LIED TO YOU! I said I would update everyday so that I'd be done with this story by Christmas and it's been like a week! I just decided not to even try to write until after exams, so as not to distract myself. And it worked! I think I did good on all of them (well, except maybe Chemistry, but I wasn't getting my hopes up too high on that anyway). But now that exams are all done and I've procrastinated enough to the point where I have half a week to do twelve chapters *deep breath* I can FINALLY work on this story.**

[Ouch! Hey, stop that! No, I'm not going to get rid of it. No, Sabrina, I don't know what I'm going to do with that. Uncle Jake got himself into that mess so he can…]

Sorry, that was Sabrina trying to convince me to help with my uncle's…but anyway, back to my story.

The date was December thirteenth, and Sabrina and I were cleaning out the attic, looking for Christmas decorations.

"I just don't see why we have to go to such extremes to decorate for Christmas," Sabrina said.

I looked at her incredulously. "Because it's _Christmas_ Sabrina. Don't be such a doofatron!"

Sabrina raised an eyebrow at my new word. I don't know why. _Doofatron _is a great word! It's like a doofus, but their doofiness exceeds regular doofness.

Sabrina picked up a box labeled _ornaments_ and followed the steps down into the other levels of the house. I looked around the attic and found a plastic box filled with Christmas lights. Smiling I walked toward it, but not before hearing a scream that could be distinctly known as Sabrina's. See, she has this weird scream that goes up in pitch at the end and…

[Oh, shut up Sabrina. You know it's true.]

Straightening my Santa hat and candy-cane stripped stockings, I grabbed the box of Christmas lights and ran down stairs as fast as I could without tripping. When I reached the bottom of the stairs, I heard Sabrina scream again.

"Granny!" I called, "Where's Sabrina?!"

"Outside, I think, _Liebling_," came Granny's voice from the kitchen downstairs. I dropped the box of lights and made my way to the main staircase, sliding down the rail to make things faster. My stockinged-feet sliding across the floor a little when I hit the ground, I took off running for the front door, where I could definitely tell the third scream came from. Smashing my feet into my green galoshes, I flung open the door with dramatic emphasis.

I shut the door again. No, not possible. I couldn't have seen that. It just wasn't feasible. But then, I _did_ live in Ferryport Landing, and I _was_ a Grimm.

I opened the door again and marched out onto the porch. There was boyish laughing mixed with girlish snarking. That was normal. But my brain could not compute what I was seeing. It was like my brain was having this war with my eyes:

Brain: _What? That's not possible. Take another look._

Eyes: _I'm telling you man; that's what I see._

Brain: _Well, you're stupid. Look_ again.

Eyes: _I'm looking dude! I'm telling you: Sabrina's a tree!_

And sure enough, there was a huge full-grown tree in the front yard that had not been there that morning. It was full of leaves, even though it was mid December, and from the branches hung ripe juicy pears. One might think it just a regular old tree, but etched into the bark was the face of Sabrina. And sitting in the branches, holding a partridge in his fingers, was a hysterically-laughing Puck.

**I'm sorry this chapter is so short, but their all probably going to be like that so I can get the story done faster. My goal is to have it done by the end of Christmas day. **


End file.
